Okay Sammy, it's not
by Shannanigans
Summary: Set in 7.01 between Sam cutting his hand and Bobby's.  Sam was certain of something.  Dean just needed a bit more info.   Sorry, it's pretty short.  But... sweet!


**Written quickly and immediately posted, as per my usual style! Set in 7.01 between Sam falling to the ground, cutting his hand and Dean fixing the Impala. Couldn't help myself! Reviews appreciated, please be kind. There are softer ways to tell a writer you don't like what they've written. Oh, and if anyone thinks I desperately need a beta, suggestions are welcome.**

SPN**SPN**SPN**SPN

Sam was down on his hands and knees after Cas disappeared. Trying to hold onto consciousness after cutting his hand and bleeding from his nose, he listed to the side.

"Sammy? Whoa, whoa you're okay. Just breathe with me." Dean was by his side almost immediately.

Dean helped Sam to lie on his back. He grabbed Sam's hand and was deciding how to clean the cut, whether to pull the piece of glass now or later. Sam's head started to shake violently. "No, no, no. Not God. Not God."

"Sam, it's okay. He's gone, Cas is gone. You're gonna be okay. I'm gonna take care of you." Dean grabbed the sides of Sam's face to stop the shaking. "Look at me, Sam."

"N…no. N…n…not God. Cas isn't God, Dean." Sam gasped and looked at his hand. He started shaking once again. "S'not burning. Dean! S'not burning!"

Dean was getting worried. He had no idea what Sam was talking about. He just knew Sam needed to calm down. Bobby had been standing back, letting the brothers talk. "Dean, let's get outta here before he comes back." The men each took an arm around their shoulders and slowly made their way to Sam's stolen car.

SPN**SPN**SPN

Dean hated drugging Sam, but Sam was getting more and more agitated once they put him to bed upstairs at Bobby's. Bobby brought a special cup of tea from downstairs. "Special" in that it was chamomile with hints of barbiturate.

"Sammy, drink." Dean held the steaming cup up to Sam's lips. For a moment Sam made eye contact with Dean and smiled.

"Dean. Dean, it's not burning." He took the cup from Dean's hands and began sipping the tea.

Dean didn't know exactly what Sam was talking about, but he assumed that "not" burning was probably a good thing, especially if Sam thought he was back in the pit. "Sure Sam. That's good." He looked over his shoulder to Bobby. "That's a good thing, right Bobby?"

Bobby nodded his agreement, walked over to Sam and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Get some sleep, boy. See you tomorrow." Sam nodded but kept his eyes on Dean.

Sam handed Dean the empty cup and slumped down in the bed. These days, he didn't like having his arms and hands under the covers – probably too restricting. Dean helped Sam get settled, essentially tucking in his gigantic brother. "Sleep well Sammy. I'll be right here." He then walked over to the other side of the bed and sat against the headboard. Even though the headlines were horribly depressing, Dean read the paper to give himself something to pass the time. He thought Sam was out for the count.

"Mmmm. De'?" Sam mumbled through closed eyes.

"Yeah, Sam?"

"Cas… Cas s'not God. Know how I know?" Sam brought his fist up to his chest. "Not burning." His eyes closed finally in restful sleep.

"'Kay Sam." Dean whispered. Dean took a moment to look over his brother. His hand was bandaged with white tape, but a black cord was peeking from beneath. Careful as to not wake his, finally resting, sibling. Dean gently pulled on the cord. There, in all its splendor – in his little brother's hand, was his amulet. One he thought he'd long since lost. He regretted throwing away the necklace, but assumed it was long gone. Of course Sam had dug it out of the trash. Of course he did.

Staring down at his long-lost amulet, Dean finally understood what Sam had been saying. What he thought was "damaged Sam's" ramblings about the pit, was actually his big-brained brother being a genius as usual. So, the amulet had not burned hot in Cass' presence. That had to be worth something. That his broken, tortured brother had the forethought to utilize the amulet should not have been a surprise. Dean wasn't surprised. He was impressed. Maybe Sammy was in there after all. Maybe he could hold onto his sanity. Maybe they could get through this. Maybe, just maybe.

Carefully, Dean placed the amulet back into Sam's bandaged hand. "Okay for now, little brother. But once you wake up, we're gonna talk about whose neck that should hang from." Dean smiled, he knew it was originally a gift for _him_, but it ended up being a gift for _them_. They could work out the details later.


End file.
